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“I love watching how light can create a mood. Photography uses light to create the perfect combination of reality mixed with fantasy,” said Jada Fabrizio, Monmouth Museum’s New Jersey Emerging Artists Series artist presenting Photographic Fairy Tales from August 18th through September 17th, 2017. Her art work will be featured in the Nilson Gallery at the Museum, located at 765 Newman Springs Road, Lincroft, NJ.The Opening Reception, August 18th, will be held from 6:00 PM – 8:00 PM. Fabrizio’s Gallery Talk will be held onSeptember 13th from 7:00 PM – 8:00 PM, both the Opening Reception and the Gallery Talk are free and open to the public.

In this new body of photographic work Fabrizio is able to capture a single moment, and use that moment to invoke an entire story. She said, “I believe that art should make you feel something, it should touch you, make you think, laugh, cry. I consider myself an

Using aspects of iconic imagery each photograph is packed with details that lead the viewer somewhere in their memory. Working with fictional scenes desensitizes the narrative and creates a haven for viewer sympathies. In safety, viewers are more likely to project their own experiences and narrative onto the piece. Each image is purposely unresolved. They are, in essence, stories in need of an ending.

Jada Fabrizio is an American Photographer who lives and works in Hudson County, New Jersey. She studied creative writing at SUNY New Paltz and photography at the School of Visual Arts andICP (International Center of Photography) in New York City. She received the 2016 Art Scene Today first place award for “It’s a mad mad world.”

The New Jersey Emerging Artists Series, now in its eleventh season at the Monmouth Museum, features six annual solo exhibitions in the Nilson Gallery which provide a unique and exciting opportunity for New Jersey artists to showcase their work. The artists selected for this series represent the diversity of new talent in the State, and demonstrate their creativity in a wide variety of media. Gallery talks scheduled during the exhibitions offer the New Jersey Emerging Artists the opportunity to share insights on their work. Opening July 14th is Lisa Lackey:Just a Moment, textile paintings; and on September 22nd, Peter Meadowsong: A Movable Feast, Watercolors.

The Monmouth Museum, founded in 1963 as a Museum of Ideas, presents changing art, history and science exhibitions to educate and entertain while providing a destination for creative expression and life-long learning to the diverse community it serves. Imaginative and informative changing exhibitions in the Main Ga

llery and Nilson Gallery present a wide variety of art in all media.

The Monmouth Museum, an independent, non-profit organization, is located at 765 Newman Springs Road, in Lincroft, NJ. For hours and more information about the Monmouth Museum exhibits and programs visit the website at: www.monmouthmuseum.org or call 732-747-2266. You can also find them on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, LinkedIn and Pinterest.

We live in a society where everyone asks, “What’s new?” or “How are you?” but no one seems to care about the response. We reply with a dull “not much” or “good, how are you?” And then wait for another meaningless answer. We ask these questions to be polite, but how often are people genuinely interested? Especially when your response is a lot more exciting than theirs would be. We are jealous, bitter people– it’s in our human nature. But we ask these questions because it’s common courtesy, and we don’t want to seem rude (even though we are).

The worst case comes when you study abroad because you have so much to share, but to be honest– no one back in the small town of Glenside, Pennsylvania wants to hear anything about your life-changing experiences because while you spent a weekend partying in Amsterdam, your friends went to another shitty house party that probably got busted before midnight. Your constant traveling and experiences in a foreign country will never fail to make everyone sitting back home hate their boring, routine lives. And you.

Some people who study abroad understand this, while others think that everyone is fascinated by their experiences. This doesn’t mean absolutely everyone isn’t interested. I’m sure your mom and dad actually care. But the stories you really want to share are probably the ones best kept from your parents. But how many times can your friends handle listening to you go on and on about your beautiful foreign roommates before they start ignoring your messages. You can’t be mad at them for this. They want to be interested in your life. But while they’re staring at the same four walls of their Oak Summit apartment, you’re out getting a taste of all different parts of the world, and they’re going to get tired of hearing about it.

Even if someone is honestly interested in your trip and wants to hear “all about it” you would never be able to describe it all. Too much has happened. I would never be able to explain in detail all the amazing opportunities I’ve had, the people I have met, and the adventures I’ve taken without wasting hours of someone else’s time. When someone back home asks me, “How’s Australia?” I couldn’t even begin to describe the highs and lows and craziness of everything that has been happening. Maybe I could tell them about how I spent an entire weekend on North Stradbroke Island learning how to surf and sandboard and kayak, and didn’t have to pay for a single thing (thanks Arcadia!). Or I could mention how last weekend I went to the most beautiful beach in the world, got to snorkel the Great Barrier Reef, and found my potential Australian husband (just kidding, maybe). I could tell them about the first time I got to hold a koala and pet a kangaroo. Or explain the difference between a nice Australian accent and a bogan one. But no matter what I tell them, it just sounds like I’m bragging. Instead, maybe I could tell them how I felt really homesick so I stayed in bed all day watching Netflix and eating overpriced Nutella out of the jar. Or that even though I’m in Australia, I still have classes to go to and essays to write and all-nighters filled with red bull WITHOUT vodka. But how lame does that make my entire semester seem?

We can partially blame social media. Most likely everyone has already seen all your pictures on Facebook and read all your tweets and hate you enough as it is. The constant upload of beautiful pictures from weekend excursions and simply everyday life in a foreign country is enough to drive anyone crazy with jealousy. Especially when it’s somewhere they wish they could be. Or somewhere they’ve already been that they wish they could go back to. Or when it is winter in PA, and your friends are dreading leaving their heated apartments, meanwhile I’m posting pictures of the beautiful, sunny beaches around Australia.

But what else are we supposed to do? We have to share our experiences with someone. And we shouldn’t have to feel guilty about it. I guess that’s why blogging has become so popular. But while it may seem like we are having a much better time than those of you at home (and not gonna lie, we probably are), we still get that FOMO too. Sometimes there is nothing I want more than to be hungover on my best friend’s couch eating mac n cheese and watching Food Network. No matter what great experiences I have abroad, there will still always be a nostalgia for people and places (and pizza) back home. So to all the friends who haven’t had the opportunity to travel and are stuck listening to our awesome stories, try to be patient with us. We’re not bragging on purpose. And I’m sure you have cool stories to share too. Even if it is just about another drunk night at Towers. And to anyone who has studied abroad and has had this problem, try not to brag TOO much to your friends. Keep it subtle. Start a blog. Or share your experiences with us at WanderLUST. And in the midst of all the bragging, don’t forget to remind your friends back home how much you still love and miss them.

It was my last night at my home school in the states. I was helping my friends pack up their things to go home for break and saying my goodbyes. Though it was only halfway through the school year, I was not coming back in the spring. I had decided to study abroad in London and was the first one out of my group of friends to do so. I was scared shitless. I had no idea how I was going to survive without my tight knit group of friends. We did everything together– ate together, got drunk together, cried together…you name it we did it together (for the most part).

Four of my closest girls had decided it would be funny to lock me in a closet before I left. They had hoped that this would make me stay, and not leave for London. But nonetheless the ticket was bought and though I was nervous, I was pretty fucking excited too. I had always pictured myself living in a big city, living a life that I had only dreamed of or seen on shows like Sex in the City. Because let’s be honest, what 20 year old girl doesn’t want to be Carrie Bradshaw?

My friends and I were trying to focus on how much fun I was going to have rather than focus on being sad about me leaving. They knew I was wild, and knew I was going to tear up London and have the time of my life. Then… we got on the topic of boys. The ‘what if’ questions started swirling around in our conversation. Eventually my friend asked, “What if you kept a hook up list while you were in London?” At first I was shocked. A LIST? Did she think I was going to lock lips with that many beautiful British men?! I thought she was out of her mind…but then I sort of didn’t. Call me crazy (or maybe just super competitive) but I wanted to see how many guys (or girls, I guess, if I was drunk enough) I could put on that list. So I packed the journal that my friend Brittany had given me, and I was on a mission.

I boarded the flight to Canada and sobbed the entire way there. I skyped my mom in Toronto, listened to her words of encouragement, and got my ass on a connecting flight to Heathrow Airport in London. I landed and it was like a dream. Something out of a Mary Kate and Ashley movie, for all you 90’s babes. To make a very long story short– I took a bus to my house, met my flat mates, and got settled in. I didn’t go to a club that first night, but I did go to a bar. First night: unsuccessful. And I was kind of pissed. Did I not look hot enough? Did I not have enough liquid courage to make moves? What the fuck was I doing wrong?

That all changed mid-week. And by changed, I mean I had added five people to the list by the end of the week. I had gone to a club called Los Locos, which wound up being my very favorite club in London. Los Locos was located in Covent Garden, in central London. I had downed three bottles of cheap wine before going out, so needless to say, I was pretty drunk. I stumbled off the tube (no, literally– I fell on the cobblestone, but got right back up like the champ that I was) and headed towards the club with some old friends that had come to London with me from my home university and my new flat mates as well. I paid to get in, immediately went downstairs, and started dancing instantly. I definitely didn’t leave my “Jersey” at home, if you know what I mean. I was talking to guys left and right and was making tons of new friends. Then: it happened. I made out with someone. All I could think of while it was happening was “HOLY SHIT, I FINALLY have someone to put on the list!” And so, the list had been christened. The sad part is I couldn’t even tell you the guys name if my life depended on it. I knew he was from America though, which was pretty disappointing. But no worries. This tale includes many other British men. After I had made out with Random #1 (as he is named on my list) four more guys quickly followed. Three American men made the list, A British guy named Connor, and Connor’s friend who was black (again, this is exactly how they are named on my list.) That makes a total of five men in one night, ladies and gentleman. Something I had only accomplished one time in the states during my visit to Rutgers University. Now, I am not saying I am proud of this. But it was my first week in London, I was bound to go a little crazy.

Some of the other names on my list included neighbors of mine such as:

Mitch the boy in the CAPA program poor life decision (not joking, that is how his name appears on my list)

Alex Henry Thomas the hot British man I kicked out of my flat at 5am

Strange Turkish man at Walkabout

Random #7 super hot guy in plaid shirt at Roxy

Guy I made out with at the bus stop

Harry Fowler the Royal Guard at Buckingham Palace (YUP THAT HAPPENED)

…. and the list goes on and on. My friends gave me a goal and I completed it. By the time the five months was up, I had kissed (or maybe done more with) over 50 people. This may seem like a lot but over the course of five months, and the amount of times I went out, it really wasn’t.

Not very many people knew about the list until now (sorry mom). But you know what? It’s my life. And I truly don’t give a shit. If you think I am a slut, that’s fine. You’re entitled to your own opinion. I’m not saying what I did was right. However, this is how I like to think of it– I had one shot at London. Five months to let go, re-create who I was, in a city with seven million people. That list even served as a sort of confidence booster for me. After a long line of bad boyfriends in the past, it was nice to meet guys that treated me well. They were not all drunk hookups or scumbags. In fact, I wound up going on dates with some of the guys I had met. Though not all of them were successful (such as the date I went on where I had to use Google Translator the entire time to attempt to make conversation in Italian), it’s still a memory I made in the city that I love. And it’s not like ALL I did while I was abroad was get drunk and find random people to hookup with. I did a lot of cultural things too. I attended Margaret Thatcher’s funeral, went to almost every museum in London, traveled to other countries and saw all the sites. I regret nothing.

As for the list…well I still have it. It is now a document on my computer. I had started it in the journal my friend had given me, but I wound up using that journal for a class so I ripped it out, typed it up and saved it to my documents. For me, it’s a memory. Since it’s in chronological order, I can very clearly recall which night was which, at what point it had happened in my trip, etc. I would update my friends as the hookups progressed but they did not see the “finished product,” we will call it, until the beginning of last May. We all got a good laugh out of it, and it gave me plenty of stories to tell. Hopefully, the same stories that I will remember when I am 80, all because I wrote it down.

“Wanderlust” means the desire to travel, a longing or impulse towards wandering. It’s become really popular for people today to use the word wanderlust, to feel the need to escape from where they are and find somewhere new. I know for myself, I have always wanted to travel because I haven’t found anywhere I want to stay. When I become too comfortable in a place, it makes me uneasy, and I know that I need to leave. I need to find something more, some kind of adventure. Inspired by my own desire to travel, I created WanderLUST as a way to share these experiences and to stray away from the boring, depressing norms of the media. I was searching for something exciting and new, and when I couldn’t find it, I decided to start a project of my own.

I’ve traveled all around Australia. I had orientation in Melbourne, admiring the graffitti and art all around the city, a cheap yet delicious meal in Chinatown, and had rounds of cheap beer bought for me and my friends at the famous rooftop bar Cookie. I spent a weekend in Sydney, taking pictures outside the extravagant opera house, and exploring the inside, as well as Sydney Harbour Bridge and Darling Harbour (and the way too expensive night scene around there). I hiked the Blue Mountains even when I thought my asthma wasn’t going to let me go further. I spent ten days in New Zealand, doing some of the most adventurous and terrifying things I’d never even dreamed of doing– hiking a glacier, bungy jumping, jet boating, white water rafting, and so much more. I’ve slept on buses and on beaches and in airport terminals. I’ve slept in some shitty hostels, and some really nice ones too, like the one in Cairns with the pool and the hammocks. I’ve scuba dived the Great Barrier Reef. I visited Bali for a week where I got to meditate in some beautiful temples, play with monkeys, buy cheap incense and jewelry, and get full body massages for $5 every day. But I’ve also gone days without eating because I spent my money on flights and tours, or to drink and smoke. And while these certainly make for some interesting stories, people are always much more interested in the juicy stuff. Who’s fucking, who’s fighting, who’s falling in love, who’s failing their classes because they keep getting drunk?

WanderLUST is here to share these kinds of stories from people’s daily adventures whether they are at home or around the world. It’s a judgment free zone, where you can share things you may not usually be inclined to share (because those are always the best). We include articles about sex, awkward situations, drunken endeavors, activism, travel, adventure, humour, art, food, rants, beautiful places around the world, pretty much anything that will make you happy to read and/or write.

I couldn’t be more excited about our first issue and the funny, interesting stories that WanderLUST’s contributors have shared with us, and I look forward to what’s to come. We are constantly looking for new writers, musicians, artists and photographers to share their views, their journey, and their talent. If you think you have something interesting to share or feedback for our magazine, please contact btedesco@arcadia.edu. We’d love to hear what you have to say, and hope you enjoy our first issue and everything that will be coming up.